The Wrong Door
by yncarn8
Summary: Severus had the distinct impression his life would have been very different had he staggered through a different door. What will it take to get his life back on track?
1. Don't Get Lost

The wind blew gently across the bay as Severus felt the cold lager ease down his throat. The bottle felt cool in his hand, dew beaded on the glass and dripped steadily onto his thigh. He sighed with satisfaction as he shoved the bottle into the sand beside him and reclined, settling back into his beach towel. The sun felt glorious against his skin, but was cooled slightly by the breeze. His mother would have called it good burning weather.

As if on cue he felt small, strong hands rub cool lotion onto his skin, his dark curls tingled as the hands massaged his chest. A low growl escaped his throat as the hands moved lower, circling his abdomen then lower still to reach inside his trunks to caress his stiffening cock.

He opened his eyes, she looked radiant, the sun shone through her chestnut hair that cascaded to her waist as she smiled down at him, her hand pumping his now engorged member. He gasped as her thumb brushed the tip, so sensitive his hips bucked at the touch. Slowly she tugged down the front of his trunks and his erection sprang free. He watched transfixed as she licked her lips and lowered her head, enveloping all of him into her warm mouth at once. Her hair swept over his body like a shroud as she sucked him deep into her throat.

His Adam's apple bobbed furiously as he fisted his hands in her hair, he was so close. "Hermione!" he gasped in warning and tried to lift her head. Her eyes met his for an instant through her hair and she grasped his backside, clamping herself to him, her tongue snaking around his shaft. He fought his urge to climax, not in her mouth; no, he loved this woman too much for that indignity. With a strangled sob his body surrendered to orgasm, he came hard into her willing mouth, his seed spurting and sputtering in time with his quickened pulse.

She lifted her head and smiled, a drop of his come dribbling from the side of her beautiful mouth. "You taste sweet, like pumpkin juice."

Overwhelmed with emotion he drew her up his body and lifted his head, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss. He could taste it, his ejaculate as he caught the drop sliding down her chin with his tongue.

Her thighs, covered with sand straddled his body as his trembling hands reached for the tie that held her red and gold bikini top at the neck, with a tug of his hand the top fell away revealing smooth, full, rose tipped breasts.

"Oh Hermione," he whispered as he gazed at her body, "so beautiful."

"Severus." His name sounded like a caress from her sweet lips, he was ready again, his arousal strained against her bikini bottom. She tossed her hair down her back as she reached down and pulled the crotch to the side, reared up and lowered herself onto his shaft. "God Severus," she cried as he stretched her.

She felt tight and hot; he reached up to grasp her buttocks, kneading them as she rode him, her head thrown back and her breasts bouncing. What was the witch doing to him? He'd never managed a curtain call in his life yet there she was driving him ever closer to a second climax. "Hermione," he gasped as her body began to shudder; he pulled her into his arms as she screamed out her orgasm, calling his name.

"Severus! Oh God, yes!"

"Hermione, my Hermione." He felt his climax building, it was so close.

"Severus!" Her hand slammed his desk and he sat bolt upright. A parchment was stuck to his face with drool and several empty bottles were knocked over, rolling onto the floor. He blinked and looked at her, straining to focus, his hair was all over the place resembling a tangled black mop. Hermione's hands were on her hips and she glared at him, her hair retrained in a severe bun. "You've been on a bender again I see," she shouted.

We winced at the sound; did she have to be so loud at the crack of dawn? She peeled the parchment from his face and removed the ink with a cleaning charm. "The Minister of Magic will be here any time now for your meeting, just look at the state of you." She placed two vials of potion on his desk and hauled him to his feet. "Drink those," she ordered in a tone that brooked no argument and proceeded to button his shirt.

He downed the potions, recognising their foul taste as a Sobering Elixir and Hang-over Potion. "I can dress myself woman!" he bellowed and began buttoning his shirt, missing three buttons out as he did so and looking puzzled as he ran out of buttons at his throat when he still had holes. "The Minister isn't due till eleven."

Hermione slapped his hands away and continued her task, her wand clasped in her palm so she could cast cleaning and deodorising charms as she fastened his shirt correctly. "It's quarter to eleven now you stupid wizard." She glared at him. "You might want to apologise to Sybill, she was looking for you."

"Whatever for?" Severus asked, grabbing his frock coat from the back of his chair and slipping it on. This time he didn't argue as they both began fastening buttons frantically.

"Perhaps because she's your wife and you didn't go home to your quarters last night?"

He merely sneered in response and slipped on his outer robe while Hermione flicked her wand at his hair, she then removed the empty bottles from the room and waved her wand about, filling the air with the scent of sandalwood to hide the stench of stale booze.

Happy that Severus was sobered, deodorised, clean and coherent she cast her eyes about the room to see if she'd missed anything. Satisfied at last she gave him a stern glare and went to meet the Minister.

"You could have woken me up," Severus muttered to the previous incumbents to the post of Headmaster of Hogwarts that lined the walls of his office.

"We tried dear boy," Albus explained.

"You were quite dead to the world," Minerva added, "you were calling out Hermione's name again."

"Shit!" Severus cursed. Panic filled his face. "Did she hear me?"

"No, you stopped just before she arrived." Albus smiled. "You really should tell her how you feel you know."

Severus sighed. "In case it has escaped your notice she is spoken for. As am I," he added as an afterthought. Suddenly he dropped his head into his hands. "God what a fucking mess!"

"It's a mess you got yourself into Severus Snape," Minerva said tersely from her frame, "I had such high hopes for you both. I don't know how it could all go so wrong."

She wasn't alone. Severus often thought of the turn his life had taken. Much as it galled him to admit it he was passionately in love with his Deputy Headmistress who incidentally was betrothed; he was also married to arguably the most useless oracle on the face of the planet, one he would have fired long ago had he not been married to the bint.

Quite how this state of affairs had come about he was at a loss to explain, it had all been going so well at the victory celebrations.

* * *

"You fucking bastard!" Hermione's usually demur voice echoed through Grimmauld Place. It was followed by a scream and the sound of a discharged hex.

Had it been anyone else's voice Severus would have remained in the Library where he sat in solitude with only a bottle of firewhiskey for company. Granger had been the first to realise that he was innocent of Dumbledore's murder having seen the search for the locket in a pensieve. She drew the conclusion that if anyone was responsible it was Harry, who had poured a toxic potion down the Headmaster's throat. Minerva had agreed with her assessment and any argument from Harry had been quashed when a new painting had been delivered to Hogwarts. It seemed Albus had commissioned a portrait shortly before his death.

He respected Granger, she was quick-witted, intelligent, had never been afraid of him and he had to admit that spending a summer chasing after Horcrux and her final year at Hogwarts training for battle had done wonders for her physique. She had grown from a Muppet that constantly raised her hand in his class to a fine figure of witch hood with an indomitable spirit, something that idiot Weasley took for granted.

He rose to his feet unsteadily and headed for the door. It was four in the morning and the booze had been flowing freely since mid afternoon. The entire Order and Hogwarts faculty had been invited to the party at their Headquarters, now Potter's residence to hold a wake for those that had fallen. Everyone was plastered and had paired off to find corners to snuggle in, everyone that is, except Severus who had retired to the Library to brood.

As he opened the door and stepped into the hall he witnessed a naked red headed wizard tumbling down the stairs and landing at his feet with a groan. The youngest Weasley boy was clutching at his groin and gasping for breath. Lavender Brown wrapped only in a sheet ran behind him emitting a high pitched shriek.

At the top of the stairs Hermione stood with her wand raised, literally incandescent with rage; her hair billowed around her in the wake of a heat haze that surrounded her body.

Lavender clutched at Snape's sleeve, trying to hide behind him as Hermione walked, no he realised to his horror, floated down the staircase towards Ron, who was whimpering on the floor in a foetal ball, clutching at Severus legs as though he were some sort of saviour.

It was then, and only then he realised he was in the middle of a domestic spat with a witch bearing down on him that made Minerva McGonagall in full flow look like a kitten. To make matters worse he was four parts pissed, the hall was spinning and had the horrible feeling he might vomit at any moment.

Her magic sang to him as she approached, her eyes burning with livid fury. It was a sweet melody, calling to every magical fibre in his being like a siren. Her eyes found his, surprise flickered in them as he felt his magic drawn by hers, twisting around it in harmony. He gathered her in his arms drawing her against his chest, lost in the hum of their combined energy. In her eyes he could see she felt it too, it was potent and intoxicating. Slowly he bent his head; an arc of static flashed between their lips.

"Upstairs now!" Hermione whispered.

Silently he stepped over the prostrated form of Ron Weasley as she led him to her room.

"Oh my," Minerva whispered from the kitchen door, a wry smile spread across her face as she watched them climb the stairs. "I haven't seen a wizard glow like that since my wedding night. Such elemental compatibility is rare indeed."

"Those two are in for quite a night," Hooch whispered beside her, "the lucky bastards."

"Where is Neville?" Minerva asked.

"He passed out," Hooch spat angrily, "they just don't have the stamina these days." She smiled wistfully. "He wasn't bad though, perhaps I'll keep him for a while."

Minerva rolled her eyes and looked at Ron quivering on the floor clutching at what was now literally his twig and berries. "Pity she's studying Potions at University; she's certainly gifted at Transfiguration."

Energy pulsed between Severus and Hermione as they walked to the room she had shared with Ron in silence. Her hand trembled within his; was it with anger or anticipation? Not that he cared, he wasn't about to refuse this beautiful witch on the grounds he was a rebound shag. No, he would manfully allow her to exorcise her frustrations on his body if that was what she required. He only hoped he could manage to get it up considering how much he had drunk, speaking of which...

As she reached for the doorknob, he grasped her hand and turned her to face him. Pressing her to the door with his body and gazed down into her upturned face. "You must excuse me for a moment," he whispered throatily and covered her mouth with his.

Hermione thought she would melt as his lips touched hers. She could feel raw magical energy coil around them, fusing her soul to his with searing heat. His kiss was hungry, driving the breath from her body as he crushed her against the wood of the door. Finally, with a lingering suck of her lower lip he pulled away, still holding her hands in his.

Her chest ached with emptiness at the loss of his lips against hers. Looking up into his aquiline face she was amazed, he was smiling at her. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before whispering softly, "I'll be right back beloved."

With a whimper she threw her arms around as his neck as he released her hands. He mustn't leave her. She needed his kisses, his body against hers. Her lips found his as her fingers wound into his hair and pulled him down to her. She felt strong arms around her waist and under her bottom as he lifted her. She stroked his cheek as she broke the kiss and gazed down into his fathomless eyes.

"Miss Granger," he whispered, his eyes closing as her kisses ravished his throat, "you feel wonderful in my arms but I really do need to pee quite desperately."

Hermione giggled and pressed her forehead to his. "Put me down then." He released the grasp on his wrist under her bottom and let her slide down his body to the ground. With a soft kiss to her lips he reluctantly left her, their hands joined until the very last moment. "Don't get lost." she called after him as he disappeared into the bathroom at the end of the hallway and she slipped into her room.

hr 

Severus woke with a mop of fuzzy brown hair up his nose and in his mouth. Choking he pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed coughing into his clenched fist, trying to rid himself of the cloying taste of stale incense in her hair. Sex with Hermione had certainly not been the soul shattering event he had anticipated. It had been all knees and elbows and bony hips, rather like shagging a pogo stick. To his disappointment he had found her asleep and the room in darkness when he returned from the bathroom. On waking her he found the wanton witch who craved his touch had evaporated to be replaced by what he could only describe as a bashful tart.

He scratched his head and reached for his underwear, pulling them on then rapidly then gathered his clothing from the floor. He had made no promise to the girl and felt no compunction at all about beating a hasty retreat before she woke. He crept from the room, wincing as the door creaked when he opened it then backed out, pulling it closed behind him.

"Good Morning Professor."

He jerked in the direction of the voice and suddenly felt very sick. "M...m..Miss Granger," he stammered, "but I..." his finger moved between the fully dressed witch before him with an angry glare on her face and the door he had just left, his hung-over brain trying to fit the pieces together and failing.

"I wondered where you disappeared to but now I see you got a better offer." Her voice burned like acid, but he could see a dark shadow in her eyes, could it be disappointment, perhaps jealousy? She blocked his mental inquisiton before it began. Who the hell had taught her Occlumency?

He opened his mouth to explain, then closed it with a snap. He had wriggled out of many a tricky situation as a spy but even he was at a loss to come up with an innocent reason why he was sneaking out of someone's room the morning after a party in just his boxer shorts.

To his horror the door flew open and he was greeted by the most ghastly sight he had ever seen and that was saying something for a Death-Eater. She was wrapped in a puce silk kimono, a sickening smile on her face and her spectacles askew.

"There you are lover," Trelawney cooed as she slipped her arm through his. "Come back to bed," she whispered breathily. His eyes shot to Hermione who was glaring at Trelawney with a mixture of hatred and disgust.

"Sybill I...Miss Granger..." This was an utter disaster. He needed to advise Sybill their union had been a mistake, one he would never repeat. He needed to throw himself at Hermione's feet and beg her forgiveness for his stupidity. The problem was which to do first? Hermione was his top priority but not even he could be so cruel as to openly reject Sybill so callously in front of someone else; by the same measure if he asked Hermione to excuse them she'd get completely the wrong idea.

His head began to spin and his dilemma soon became a moot point as his stomach roiled. Dropping his clothes and wresting himself from Trelawney's pawing hands he ran to the bathroom gagging and dropped to his knees before the toilet. With a loud retching noise he began his supplication to the porcelain gods.


	2. The Breakfast Meeting

Severus wasn't sure if he had thrown up due to the alcohol, the sight of Sybill in that puce dressing gown that gaped slightly at the front or the knowledge that he had copulated with her. Sadly his money was on the latter two reasons.

It was a grave misunderstanding, one he had to resolve forthwith. Sybill Trelawney must be left without the slightest idea there was any chance of a relationship between them. It was unthinkable.

After drying his face on a towel he left the bathroom to find the hallway empty except for his clothes which had been charmed clean and neatly folded. He noted with a glimmer of hope they were on the floor outside Hermione's door, rather than Trelawney's.

Finding his wand on top of the pile he cast a cleaning charm on himself and pulled on his trousers and shirt. He was distracted by a thud from within the room and knocked tentatively at the door.

"What the hell do you want?" Hermione yelled at the sound as she dragged her trunk across the floor. She looked up to see a very guilty looking Snape at the door. Her heart clenched at the sight of him, he looked delicious standing there with his shirt open, her hand just itched to explore the dark hair that covered his chest.

"Miss Granger, I owe you the most sincere apology," he explained, wringing his jacket in his hands. "There's been a terrible mistake."

"Too right there has been a mistake. Mine." She pulled open a drawer and pulled out a pile of clothes and threw them into her trunk.

"Miss Granger are you going somewhere?" he asked nervously, dreading the reply.

"I'm leaving. I might have been able to survive the shame of Ron screwing Lavender behind my back but you standing me up for Trelawney?" She shook her head.

Dropping his jacket on the bed he stepped forward, grasped her by the upper arms and turned her to face him. "I never meant to stand you up. I..." he exhaled heavily down his nose, "I went to the wrong bloody room. With all that hair I mistook her for you."

He knew it had been the wrong thing to say before she had slapped him hard across the face.

"Good job for you Hagrid wasn't in the next room then wasn't it?" she spat. "Of all people it had to be her. Do you know what she said to me in my third year?" she screamed, "She told me my mind was hopelessly mundane!"

Severus knew exactly how much that comment must have hurt Hermione. It would have stung a thousand times more than any comment about her large front teeth. Her finger pointed venomously at the door and for an awful moment he thought she was throwing him out of her room.

"People saw us go upstairs together and everyone knows. I refuse to sit there while that woman tells everyone at breakfast you clearly chose her over me and you are now a couple."

Severus paled at the news. "I need to speak to her and make things clear but please promise me you won't leave," he pleaded, "running away will solve nothing."

"I'm leaving and that's final," she snapped and pulled away from him to continue packing. Suddenly her shoulders sagged and her demeanour softened. "My classes start at college first thing tomorrow. You can write to me if you must," she added sullenly.

"I'll make this up to you. I promise," he assured her with a smile as he took her hand and kissed her palm, the one that had left its imprint on his cheek. "Our magic sang to us Hermione. That happens once in a lifetime if you are lucky." He threw his jacket over his shoulder and strode to the door buttoning his shirt. "Remember that," he whispered as he pulled the door closed behind him.

The image around the kitchen table was just as Hermione described. Molly was busy making breakfast for those who had already risen. Hooch, Neville, Minerva, Flitwick and Madame Pomfrey were tucking into full English breakfasts. Sitting amidst them was Sybill nibbling on some dry toast. Apparently getting a good seeing to at long last had turned her into a social animal. He cleared his throat behind her just as she was telling Hooch what style of wedding dress she foresaw herself in. "Sybill. A word please?" he glared at her as he indicated the door to the next room and closed the door behind them as she shuffled through.

Hooch looked at Minerva for a moment then bolted to the door, pressing her ear against it.

"That's hardly sporting Rolanda!" Flitwick declared.

"Bugger sporting," Minerva responded, "What are they saying Rolanda?"

"He just said something about going to the toilet," Hooch whispered.

"I wouldn't have expected them to be into watersport," Filius added, lifting a sausage to his mouth.

"What do you mean?" Neville asked innocently.

"People widdling on each other for sexual gratification," Molly explained, "more mushrooms dear?" The blood slowly drained from Neville's face as Molly spooned mushrooms onto his plate.

Hooch's mouth fell open. "He mistook her for Granger in the dark."

"Poor Hermione," Minerva tutted, "I could have slapped Sybill when she told her Severus had gone for a mature sensitive instead of a spiritually shrivelled up youth."

"FOR THE LAST TIME TRELAWNEY I HAVE NO INTEREST IN PURSUING A RELATIONSHIP WITH YOU. MY INTEREST LIES ELSEWHERE!"

"That settles it I suppose." Hooch rubbed her ear as a howl echoed through the wall followed by a resounding slap, then footsteps thumped up the stairs. As she returned to her breakfast Neville leaned towards her.

"Are you into watersports?" he asked in a low voice.

Hooch's eyes narrowed. "Okay, who has been corrupting Neville?"

"That would be you." Severus replied as he took the seat Trelawney had left. "I've never seen such a vile display and I've attended parties at Malfoy Manor."

"Breakfast Severus?"

"Yes please Molly," he replied.

"Black pudding?"

"As if a northern man could say no," he smirked.

"I didn't know you were a northerner sir," Neville commented.

"Born and bred in Derbyshire lad. Self preservation drove me to lose the accent. Getting the shit kicked out of you in the Slytherin Common Room on a regular basis does wonders for one's elocution."

"We were discussing the possibility of coaxing Neville away from Kew to be Pomona's apprentice Severus," Minerva told him.

"That's a good idea," Severus replied as he tucked in to his breakfast, "it will make the transition easier when she retires in a few years time."

"That's what we were thinking," Minerva commented, "but Mr Longbottom seemed to think you'd be against it?"

"What's it got to do with me?" Snape frowned.

"We need a Head of Slytherin, a Potions Master and a Deputy Headmaster." Minerva sipped from a glass of pumpkin juice. "Last time I looked you were qualified for all three and unemployed."

"And the Defence post?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Remus Lupin. No offence to Neville but we need a more mature Head of Gryffindor."

"I thought he was planning to raise puppies with Tonks. Ouch!" He glared at Minerva and rubbed his upper arm. "You're the third witch to strike me today and it's not even ten o'clock."

"No less than you deserve Severus Snape," she chided, "you and your bed hopping antics." She glared at him, but her smile betrayed her. "Since Tonks got her promotion they're putting off starting a family for a while."

"If I were to take the job," he paused for effect, but also to eat some bacon with fried egg, "would there be any additional remuneration reflecting the additional duties of Deputy Headmaster?"

"There would be a small financial reward associated with the role. I would need your answer today though, term starts tomorrow."

"Minerva," he cried feigning injury, "anyone would think I'm the last resort."

"For God's sake Severus," Hooch exclaimed, "if we have to endure another year of that pompous windbag Slughorn, we'll all be flinging ourselves off the Astronomy Tower by Christmas."

"I suspect he's brought back his little... duelling club," said Flitwick, "nothing I can prove of course."

"Nothing any of us can prove or he'd be out on his arse," Minerva added. "We need you Severus; more to the point the Slytherins need you."

"What's wrong with a duelling club?" Neville asked, "I mean the D.A. was sort of like that."

"We aren't taking about a group of students gathering to practice defensive spells. The Slytherin Duelling Club was wands at dawn, no hexes barred. In my day as a young Slytherin it was customary to settle all disputes, even trivial disagreements in the Duelling Club while the whole house watched and cheered. It's entirely against school rules of course, but Slughorn encouraged it, he even officiated at the contests."

"Do you know that for certain?" Minerva asked.

"Remember in; must have been my fourth year when I ended up in the hospital wing with a severed artery in my thigh?"

"You nearly bled to death, would have if Miss Lawson hadn't been so quick witted," Poppy commented, "you told me you slipped chopping something and stabbed yourself by accident."

"Poppy, have you ever known me to be careless while preparing ingredients? It was a Slicing Hex, I was duelling Lucius," he frowned, "can't remember what about now, that's how crucial the matter was." He looked lost in thought for a moment, "I won anyway." After chewing a mouthful of fried bread he added, "I was lucky, Slughorn always left the healing to the seconds only my second, Jack Parkinson fainted at the sight of blood so Phyllida fastened her tie around my leg and dragged me out of the Common Room while everyone else; Slughorn included watched her struggle and laughed."

"She was a tiny girl Phyllida Lawson, so delicate and fragile," Flitwick commented, "to think she had to drag your gangly carcass all the way from the Dungeon to the Hospital Wing unaided."

"Delicate and fragile my arse, Phyll can duel like a hellcat. Pansy learned to fight dirty from her mother, not her father."

Minerva looked thoughtfully at her plate. "You owed her mother a life debt, that's why you brought Pansy over to our side as well as Draco."

"Partly," Severus smirked, "would you want to face Pansy Parkinson in battle having seen her duel?"

"Good point." Flitwick conceded.

"Why on earth didn't you say something at the time Severus?" Minerva scowled.

Snape looked up as Draco entered the room. "Draco, what is the first rule of Duelling Club?"

"Never talk about Duelling Club," he replied automatically.

"And the second rule of Duelling Club?"

"Never talk about Duelling Club," the blond responded, then slapped his hand over his mouth in horror at what he had said.

"That enough proof for you Minerva?" Severus arched a dark brow in her direction as he placed his knife and fork carefully on his plate and sat back replete. "I bet the old arsehole has made a right pig's ear of my storeroom too," he scowled.

"Just think of all the fun you'll have in there tidying up," Hooch teased.

"Can I be there when you dismiss Slughorn?" Severus asked.

"As Deputy Headmaster it would be appropriate for you to be there." Minerva's eyes glimmered, "you could even be the one to tell him."

* * *

Dear Miss Granger,

Forgive my forwardness in writing so soon. I realise this is not what you intended when you gave me permission to correspond with you, however events following your departure have compelled me to put quill to parchment.

As you will no doubt deduce from my notepaper I have returned to Hogwarts to resume the position of Potions Master and Head of Slytherin. This is of great relief to me as I would not be happy to begin courting you whilst being an itinerant wizard. I have also been made Deputy Headmaster and I have to admit a certain amount of trepidation at taking on the role. I have always been aware that while Albus was the rudder of Hogwarts, Minerva was very much at the helm doing most of the work. Since Albus was lost she has been continuing to do all the administration normally performed by the Deputy Head in addition to handling the pastoral care of Gryffindor and continuing to teach Transfiguration as well as the duties of Headmistress. Much as it galls me Remus Lupin will now be shouldering the responsibility of Gryffindor and I only hope I can acquit myself in her former role as Deputy Head. The search is continuing for someone to take over her classes, though I fear it is too late to find someone now as the school year commences tomorrow.

Your friend Neville Longbottom will also be joining the staff this year as a Junior Professor. Pomona Sprout, who has long expressed a desire to retire will be training Longbottom to be her replacement over the next three years. Fear not however, we have made a truce of sorts. I have agreed not to insult him as long as he stays away from my classroom and laboratory. Hooch has taken him under her wing, or rather between her legs so I shall be sticking to my side of the bargain. She is not a witch to be trifled with believe me.

Your Mr Weasley has found himself in something of a bind following his indiscretions being made public. It seems Potter threw him and his paramour out of Grimmauld Place and into the street in the early hours of this morning. He was last seen hailing the Knight Bus to the Leaky Cauldron with Miss Brown in tow. Sadly Potter feels I am not fit to be your suitor either but has agreed it is your decision to make and I didn't even have to hex or threaten him. This is not the end of young Ronald's woes as Molly has warded him out of the Burrow and despatched a Howler.

Further to my apology this morning I must apprise you that Professor Trelawney has been left with no illusions as to my intentions. I assured her in no uncertain terms that my interest lies with you and only you. I have been made aware of the comments she made to you at breakfast this morning and I am so very sorry that you were exposed to her cruel words.

Again I can only beg your forgiveness at my transgression and throw myself upon your mercy Miss Granger. My only defence is that my actions were entirely inadvertent.

I eagerly await your response.

Regards,

Severus Snape


	3. A Courtship By Owl

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the letter as she put it on the desk beside the book she was studying. She had her own room in the halls of residence at the University, although she shared a kitchen and bathroom with the other students on her floor. She considered herself lucky, Muggle students would be expected to find their own accommodation in their second year, but as wizards and witches from all over the world attended the Merlin Institute of Applied Magic it was deemed safer to keep them all housed on campus for the duration of their studies. It made perfect sense to Hermione, no doubt the Obliviators would have a full time job rectifying the fallout from pranks alone if the student body were spread across the capital in flats, not to mention many of her fellow scholars hadn't the first idea how to live in a Muggle community without behaving like a fish out of water or worse, Molly Weasley in Sainsbury's.

Her room was square and plainly decorated in magnolia paint when she'd arrived a year before to the day. The only soft furnishings that had come with the room were a pair of beige curtains that hung at the window. The only furniture in the room was a desk, a chair, a wardrobe, a wash-hand basin in the corner and a bed. The bed was of a similar size to her bed at Hogwarts although there were no ornate posts and curtains; all of the furniture was of a basic utility style, simple and plain.

The decor was Spartan, much as most student accommodation across Britain but this was no ordinary hall of residence. It was alive.

Within a month her room had evolved to suit her and was now a haven of autumnal colours and dark wood that seemed to have been carved into the tree where it stood. She lived in a woodland glade that soothed her mind as she studied, relaxing her frayed nerves and aching body after a long day bent over cauldron in the laboratory.

She did have concerns regarding the state of mind of the other witches on her floor, one girl's room was completely black and perpetually in darkness, another was even more terrifying, a nightmare of chintz and lace.

She had spent the afternoon scouring the University Library for anything she could find on the combination of magical energies. The best she could come up with so far was a slim volume on Double-casting, an obscure technique that from what she could gather, involved holding the wrist of another mage and casting through their wand utilising the energies of both parties. It wasn't what she was looking for but it had held her interest as she had witnessed Snape using it during the final battle. At the time she had been surprised to see him holding hands with Rudolphus Lestrange, although she had heard stories about the sort of thing Death-Eaters got up to she hadn't thought either of them were that way inclined. She was even more puzzled when a blast from Lestrange's wand exploded Macnair all over the battlefield like jam and the Professor elbowed his 'boyfriend' in the face smashing his nose.

She was oddly touched that Snape had left Lestrange alive and called to Neville to finish him. A slicing hex to the throat had done the job, but showered both men in blood. They had stood for a moment looking at Lestrange's corpse before Snape kicked the body and they both ran back into the fray.

Neville stood taller after that day. She prayed Madame Hooch wouldn't break his heart, but was delighted to hear he was finally getting laid.

She looked back over the letter again. It was beautiful, sweet and surprisingly funny but she wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily. Reaching for a blank parchment she took her quill and placed it between her lips. Now where should she start?

* * *

Dear Professor Snape,

Thank you for your letter, since Ginny Weasley graduated last Summer I feared I would no longer hear news of the goings on at Hogwarts. I'm so glad to hear Professor McGonagall's workload will be eased, I have noticed she is looking tired these days and have been worried that she is pushing herself too hard.

I am sorry you were not given the Defence Professorship; I know that must be a great disappointment for you. You never know though, after I earn my degree I may steal the Potions classroom from you, leaving you free to take Remus' place when he leaves to become a house-husband.

Thank you for your reassurances regarding Professor Trelawney. I realise you had a substantial amount to drink last night but the thought that you could have mistaken her for me is as hard to bear as the thought of what surely transpired between you. It would be easier for me to turn away and break contact with you, yet I find my mind drawn to the memory of our aura's melding and I am intrigued to know how you propose to make so grave an error up to me as you promised.

Kind regards,

Hermione Granger

* * *

Dear Miss Granger,

Minerva's health is of grave concern to me; I doubt she has ever fully recovered from being viciously stunned thanks to Umbridge. Lupin has also noticed that she is showing signs of strain and has lost weight. She has promised us she will have a full examination with Poppy and allow me to brew her a tonic. Hopefully with us both harping at her she will finally get some well earned rest.

You are a wicked witch to tease an old Professor so. The thought of you returning to the castle to teach is as alluring as the thought of a reprieve from teaching Potions. Do not trouble yourself over my career, I had not expected to survive the war, let alone be allowed to teach again after all that has happened in the last three years. I am content to be back within Hogwarts walls and glad to be employed once more. Had my involuntary respite lasted much longer I fear I would have been reduced to eating cold baked beans from a tin each night. The opportunity to woo a beautiful witch of your calibre is far more than I could have even dreamed of a month ago.

I feel I should say that I fervently hope my reference to 'Your Mr Weasley' in my previous letter was not an omen. I am well aware that your emotions will be running high and should you be considering a reconciliation I will step aside. I would be most saddened to find my chance with you has passed me by, but I would respect your choice.

Believe me, I am a pained by the memory of what transpired as you are at the thought of it. As a gentleman it would be wrong of me to cast aspersions on Sybill's character, suffice to say I have considered Obliviation as an option, to place the memory in a Pensieve would require me to look at it and that is too high a price to pay.

The symbiosis of our magical fields was a potent experience; I too have found my mind drawn to it. I have read about the phenomenon but to feel it first hand was awe-inspiring.

I did indeed promise to make up for my misdemeanours and I am a wizard of my word. What form this will take is entirely up to you. A candlelit dinner perhaps? I know of a small restaurant on the Suffolk coast where they serve the most delicious seafood caught locally and a pot au chocolat that melts on your tongue like a whisper.

Should you still find my company bearable after our meal and a little wine we could apparate to a hotel in London where a suite could be obtained. I would begin by drawing you a hot bath of scented oils, should you wish it I would be your man servant, soaping every inch of you very gently with a soft natural sponge. When you are ready I would wrap you in soft, warm towels and carry you in my arms to the bed. I would lay you down and begin a slow, deep, unhurried massage until every inch of your body is completely relaxed. After you have drifted into a contented sleep I would take my place at the foot of your bed, the floor would befit my status, and listen to the sound of you sighing in your sleep.

Should this be unacceptable there are certainly other services within my abilities?

Your devoted servant,

Severus

* * *

Dear Severus,

It's wonderful that you and Professor Lupin have been able to set aside your differences to help Professor McGonagall. For what it's worth I am proud of you both.

I wasn't teasing about stealing your job; I am seriously considering teaching as a career after University. Much as I like the idea of working in a research environment I don't like the stranglehold the Ministry maintains over funding.

If the intention of your letter was to make me blush you have certainly succeeded. I will not be making the mistake of opening any future correspondence from you in the Library Reading Room.

While your suggested scenario is certainly appealing, from my experience the rooms at the Leaky Cauldron are hardly conducive to relaxation. Perhaps while I am giving the matter further thought you could outline the services you can offer? It would be foolish I think to accept your first offer without considering the options available to me.

Did I mention I have a stringent selection process for my servants? I would have to watch you remove every stitch of clothing very slowly and make a careful inspection of your attributes to ensure you meet the required standard.

If you were to be successful in your application and go on to provide me with such tender ministrations you would surely be eligible for the staff reward scheme before you know it.

Yours,

Hermione

P.S. There is absolutely no chance of my taking Ron back under any circumstances.

* * *

Dear Hermione,

Did I mention the Leaky Cauldron? I had a far more lavish venue in mind, one with a corner bath and champagne on ice, but no matter. It is merely one of many options and it would be wrong for you to decide without having all the available information to hand.

How do you feel about camping? I know of a secluded woodland glade with a waterfall and a beautiful running stream. I would spirit you away for the weekend, ply you with sweet wine and cook you wholesome food while you lounged on soft cushions. I would feed you fruit peeled by hand, anoint your hands and feet with lotions and balms and cater to your every whim.

Another option would involve my bed, leather restraints and a little potion I have been working on since my return to Hogwarts. A special elixir just for you. I have enclosed a copy of the recipe for your consideration.

I would be happy to endure your selection process, indeed I would crawl naked through a field of blast-ended skrewts if it would earn your forgiveness and affection.

Eternally yours,

Severus

P.S. You have no idea what a relief that is to me Miss Granger.

* * *

Dear Severus,

Please forgive me for my assumption regarding the Leaky Cauldron. I have spent the last two years in the company of someone whose idea of a romantic getaway is watching the Chudley Cannons at home in a downpour followed by a skinful of butterbeer and belching into my ear that he fancies a shag.

I have to admit I was mortified at your suggestion of leather restraints but on perusal of your proposed potion it seems a necessary precaution. I do wonder if you have tested it and if so on whom?

Is it wrong of me to find the idea of you cooking arousing? Of course if the fare is to be cold baked beans out of a tin it will be a huge disappointment.

Would you consider it brazen of me to ask if you have plans for this weekend? Is that enough time for you to brew the potion?

Hermione

x

* * *

Dearest Hermione,

Had I known you were suffering such indignities at the hands of that callow youth I would have made a play for you much sooner. Little wonder my suggestion made you blush if you have been left with such low expectations. This is something I plan to rectify in short order. You deserve so much more.

I admit, I mentioned the restraints in order to provoke you. I find the idea that I can bring a blush to your cheeks at such a distance compelling. If only you knew how I long to witness it for myself.

The potion is ready and waiting, although I have yet to obtain the necessary apparatus. Contrary to popular belief I am not in the habit of tying up witches in my dungeon (or wizards before you ask.) It may be necessary to transfigure something in order to ensure comfort; we don't want any chaffing do we?

I have detention on Saturday morning but would you care to join me for lunch at the Three Broomsticks after? I should be finished by midday. We can then adjourn to my quarters for a 'clinical trial'. Later I would be honoured if you would allow me to cook you dinner, I promise you my culinary skills extend beyond froid baked bean à la tin.

Severus

* * *

Dear Severus,

Detention already, have you been a naughty Professor? Tomorrow at noon sounds perfect, I'll meet you at the pub.

Is there anything you'd like me to bring?

Hermione

x

* * *

Hermione,

I must have been a very naughty Professor to deserve Dennis Creevey in my N.E.W.T. class.

You need only bring yourself Hermione, and perhaps a change of underwear.

Severus

I to be continued... /I 


	4. The Three Broomsticks

The Three Broomsticks was bustling with activity when Hermione arrived, her eyes scanning the room. She spotted Severus sat in a corner dressed in his customary frock coat, he was glaring at the glass of pumpkin juice on the table before him as if it had made some personal slight against him moments before. He looked tense, the muscles in his jaw clenching reflexively in time with this fingers of his left hand which drummed absently on the table top.

If she didn't know better she'd think he was nervous.

"Am I late?" she asked as she approached the table.

He looked up with a start and his breath hitched. "No, not at all." He stood to greet her, his hand resting on the sleeve of her jacket as he leaned forward to kiss her chastely on the lips. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Yes please, pumpkin juice would be lovely," she replied as she put down her bag and undid the buttons of her black velvet jacket. Beneath her jacket she wore a brown calf length skirt over her black high-heeled boots along with a scoop-necked tan top that buttoned down the front. It was one of her favourites, it showed just the right amount of cleavage and the three-quarter length sleeves didn't get in her way. Removing her jacket she placed it on the back of the seat opposite the one he had left and sat down then patted her hair to ensure it was all restrained by the ribbon that held it back from her face.

"You look lovely," he commented as he placed her drink in front of her and slid two menus onto the table. "I've always had to keep two separate wardrobes, one for work and one for home. You seem to have found a happy medium." It was true, since leaving Hogwarts Hermione had very much found her own style, not wanting to look out of place in either world she wore Muggle clothing that had a 'witchy' look about it. Calf length skirts and knee high boots were the mainstay of her Autumn and Winter wardrobe, switching to sandals and lighter materials in the Spring and Summer.

"Thank you," Hermione smiled, "You're looking well." At his derisive snort she added, "you used to look, well..."

"Like a greasy git?" he ventured as he looked at her over the menu, "oh don't look so scandalised I'm not deaf or daft, I hear the whispers."

Hermione picked up the other menu, "I see we're going to have to work on you accepting compliments gracefully," she informed him. "Now, with that in mind..." She smiled once more. "You're looking well."

"Thank you, I've been working on my house and garden while I've been on sabbatical. It's hard work but good exercise," he responded.

"That's much better," she grinned.

He eyed her appraisingly, a hint of a smile flickering across his lips, "Teaching would certainly suit you, but it would be a grave loss to magical science."

"It hasn't stopped you developing new potions and registering patents hand over fist," she commented with an arched brow. "The income from Skele-gro alone must keep you in an abundance of baked beans."

"So you've been doing your research Miss Granger," he intoned, "while I may have exaggerated my financial situation my liquid assets have been exhausted. Partly due to my fleeing my place of employment in disgrace destroying my cash flow, along with the fact a new bathroom and kitchen extension didn't come cheap. There is only so much I can do myself and as I live in a Muggle street I had to hire Muggle builders to do the work."

She smiled at the thought of the surly Professor snarling at a builder holding a mug of tea and sucking through his teeth. The image was completed by a hairy backside hanging out of the man's jeans. She shook the image from her mind; the thought of workman's bum could shatter any fantasy.

"May I see your house?" she asked.

"Of course, although I was thinking of selling it, there's a cottage for sale in Hogsmeade that I rather like the look of. It needs extensive renovation but I have to confess I've been bitten by the bug."

"You sound like my Dad; he's always knocking down walls, putting up new ones. It drives Mum up the wall while it's going on but she does love to redecorate after and shop for soft furnishings."

"It sounds like a perfect partnership," Severus laughed, "do they practise dentistry together?"

Hermione dropped her menu. There was only one way he could know what her parent's profession was. "You've been looking through my student file."

His lip quirked. "I may have, stumbled upon it in the course of my duties as Deputy Headmaster."

"Stumbled on it?"

"Indeed, I was combining old student files with Poppy's medical records for storage."

Her mouth gaped in horror. "You've seen my medical records?"

"They may have fallen open on my desk at some point," he hid behind the menu avoiding eye contact, then surrendered to his curiosity, "How on earth did you manage to turn yourself into catwoman?"

"I used cat hair in polyjuice by mistake," she admitted sullenly.

He frowned, "You brewed polyjuice successfully in your second year? I'm impressed," he admitted, "I think I'll have the ploughm... Hang on, what were you making polyjuice for exactly?"

"We thought Malfoy knew who the Heir of Slytherin was so we infiltrated the Slytherin Common Room. Well, Harry and Ron did, I stayed in the loo and purred."

Severus stifled a laugh, "They didn't go as Crabbe and Goyle did they?"

"Yes, why?" Hermione asked, unsure of what was so funny.

He dropped his head into his hand, his shoulders shaking with laughter. "They should think themselves lucky it wasn't their sixth year, Zabini would have had the pair of them in a daisy chain with Draco."

"A dais..." a look of realisation formed on Hermione's face, "thank you for that image," she added with distaste.

"What can I get you my love?" Rosmerta beamed over her ample cleavage at Hermione.

"I'd like a brie and black grape baguette please." Hermione replied.

"I'll have a ploughman's please Rosmerta." Severus smiled handing her the bar menu.

Hermione leaned her elbows on the table, unsure of what to do with her hands without the menu to hold, to her surprise Severus took them in his, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles.

"I apologise. It was wrong of me to go through your personal records but once I found them in my hands I couldn't resist." He lowered his tone, "one thing did worry me Hermione. Please tell me you aren't on the pill? Poppy just has 'Muggle means' listed in your notes."

Hermione blinked, this was certainly not a question she had been led to believe was likely to come from a prospective lover, in fact she expected the opposite. "I..."

"Don't misunderstand me I greatly admire witches who take responsibility for these matters, it is the inherent risks of the Muggle pill that concern me. I did a comparison of Muggle and Magical contraception for my thesis at university and I was appalled by the side effects. Blood clots, strokes..."

She squeezed his hand, "I'm on injections, progesterone only. Much less risk and I don't have to remember to take tablets."

"That's better I suppose, but I'd be far happier if you'd let me brew something for you. I could fine tune it to your body chemistry," he commented, "of course I would give you the formula, you wouldn't be beholden to me at all."

"I've never thought of personalising a formula."

"Most Potion makers don't bother but you'll find out how in your final year, it can be highly beneficial under certain circumstances. I adjusted Lupin's Wolfsbane last year and he's noticed a marked improvement."

He looked up and reluctantly released her hands as their meals were placed on the table in front of them.

They chatted amiably as they ate their meal, Hermione telling him about her studies and University life. Surprisingly Severus had shared many of her lecturers when he was a student; although considering the lifespan of the average mage it wasn't that much of a shock.

This time she reached out and took his hand as soon as their plates were cleared, her fingers entwining with his as she gazed into his dark eyes. "How did we get here?" she whispered.

"I'm not sure, but this isn't where I want to be." he said sadly.

An ache gripped at her chest, he was having second thoughts. She felt her eyes sting with tears. "No?" Her voice sounded choked.

"No," he raised her hand to his lips, "get your coat on, you've pulled."

It took them forever to reach the Castle gates, Hermione never realised there were so many secluded corners and so much dense shrubbery between the village and the school. At last she found herself dragged behind a tree that had the initials B.B. and S.S. carved into it surrounded by a heart. Ordinarily she wouldn't have commented but she felt the fact he had put his hand over the etching as he leaned in to kiss her was somehow significant. Turning her face at the last moment she grasped his wrist and arched a brow at the inscription.

"Bellatrix carved that when we were thirteen. Our romance lasted a week and consisted of us snogging twice," he whispered as he kissed her neck.

"Hardly Romeo and Juliet then." she sighed, closing her eyes.

"More like Bodgett and Scarper," he snorted, nuzzling at her ear.

"So that would make you..."

"Scarper," they both chimed in unison. Severus grimaced at the memory but smiled as Hermione started giggling.

"Well, this is the last tree before home," he sighed, "You'll have to keep your hands off me till I get you to my dungeon, you wanton hussy."

"Moi?" she batted her lashes at him, "you're the one who keeps dragging me off the path and into the bushes." She gave him another stern look, "and how exactly do you know where all these little hidey holes are?"

"Trade secret," he replied cryptically, "Suffice to say I have either lost points or taken points thanks to all of them. Mostly the later I'm sorry to say." Reluctantly he stepped back and took her hand as she negotiated the tree roots in her heels. With a sigh he let go of her hand as they reached the gates.

"Speaking of initials, care to explain why there is 'H.G. loves G.L." carved into your old desk in the Defence Classroom?" he asked with a smirk.

"Git," she muttered, looking at him darkly as he held the gate open for her.

"If you will make a habit of seducing your teachers you must face the consequences."

"I was twelve and he was... well... dashing. How was I to know he was an utter fraud." she responded, her cheeks turning pink.

"The fact he was a bullshit artist of the first order didn't give it away then?"

"Did you have to sit him on his arse in duelling club?"

"I most certainly did, the pompous tosser was regaling us in the staffroom with tales of his derring-do for months. It was that or spike his shampoo with depilatory potion."

"You're a right bastard, do you know that?" she smiled at him.

"Thank you, I put a lot of effort into it." he smirked in return.

The walk across the grounds was like a torture, it took every ounce of his resolve not to throw her to the ground and take her. His body ached for her; he could feel his manhood straining, painfully hard against his clothing. More than once on their journey she had nearly brought him off, particularly as they frottaged against the back wall of Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, he had pulled away, horribly aware that he needed longer to recover than he had in his youth. He did not want to disappoint the witch at his side, but she would be comparing him to Ron Weasley, a nineteen year old walking gland. It was enough to give 'Little Severus' stage fright.

He held the front door open for her as they entered the castle.

"I always assumed you had a secret entrance to the castle, for when you returned from those covert missions," Hermione told him.

"I did, it's called a Portkey," he explained, "I destroyed it... that night to stop it falling into the wrong hands."

He led her toward the dungeons, his eyes flicking to hers, neither of them wishing to break the only contact between them. Whispering a password to a bare patch of wall a doorway formed in front of Severus. After checking his wards he opened the door and ushered Hermione in.

He had barely closed the door when he felt small strong hands reach around him and begin unbuttoning his jacket. Turning to face her he lifted her bag from her shoulder with one finger and dropped it to the floor, her jaw was set as she worked his buttons open. Taking her face in his hands he tilted it upwards and claimed her mouth with his, sliding her jacket from her shoulders he let it fall and flicked open the top button of her blouse with his finger.

"Fucking buttons!" Hermione hissed, her hands shaking with need.

"I like buttons," he whispered, dipping his head to kiss her soft skin as he liberated it from her top. With a smile he stilled her hands in one of his and withdrew his wand, running it down the front of his frock coat it sprang open.

Hermione slid his coat from his body and slipped her arm around his neck, pressing her body against his. "God, I can't touch enough of you," she whispered.

Leaning back he continued to work on her top as she unfastened his pristine white shirt. A soft moan escaped from his lips as he tugged her top and bra down to reveal her breasts.

Any composure he had left was lost at the feel of her bare breast in the palm of his hand, wanting more of her skin he pulled her top free from her skirt and pulled it off over her head. After lifting her arms in compliance she returned her hands to his now bare chest, relishing the feel of his lean body under her hands. Reaching behind her he began to wrestle with the clasp on her bra.

"Damn Muggle contraption," he hissed. "Whoa," he exclaimed as she yanked his shirt off his shoulders, trapping his arms, "cufflinks."

He pulled her closer to his chest and released his cuffs behind her back, her breath felt hot against his shoulder as she reached behind her and snapped open her bra.

Both topless he found her mouth once more, kissing her hungrily. He let his hands slide down her back and unfastened her skirt, acutely aware she was unbuttoning his fly at the same time.

"You do like buttons don't you," she whispered as she slid his trousers down and grasped his buttocks pulling him against her as her skirt slipped to the floor along with her pants. Manoeuvring her to the settee he sat her on the arm and pulled off her boots then pulled down his boxers, hopping on each foot he yanked off his boots and freed himself from the clothing gathered at his ankles.

"Holy fuck!" Hermione shrieked at the sight of him naked. He froze, stunned by her reaction and began to stammer an apology, "You're huge!"

"What?" he asked incredulously and looked down at himself, "I'm a little above average perhaps, but hardly gargantuan." He swallowed hard at the look of fear in her eyes, to stop now would probably kill him but he couldn't, wouldn't take her by force.

"Ron was, well it was nothing like that," she gasped, unable to tear her gaze away from his erection.

"It may not be a... precision instrument but I'll be as gentle as I can."

She nodded nervously and he stepped towards her, sweeping her up into his arms, he took her mouth with his in a deep hot kiss. She moaned and writhed in his embrace as he kissed down her throat reaching her breasts he flicked his tongue over a taut nipple before suckling at it. Grasping at each other they stumbled backwards landing on the sofa, Severus still latched on. Turning his head he lavished his attention on her other nipple as he reached between them and stroked her mound before sliding his hand between her legs.

She was wet and she bucked at his touch despite his weight on her. He caressed her gently rubbing his thumb over her clitoris that was already a tight firm bud. He ran his fingers along her slit until he found his goal.

"Christ you're tight Hermione," he grunted as he thrust his finger into her and stroked her with a beckoning motion. She grunted her approval from the back of her throat but suddenly grabbing his wrist she pulled his hand away. "I need you to come first, I'm not likely to last long," he panted.

"Take me now," she commanded.

Rising on his knees to manoeuvre himself between her legs he slipped, pulling her on top of him as he landed on the stone floor. Frantic with need for her he rolled her onto the hearth rug in front of the glowing fire.

She screamed as he stretched her with his glans, a slow hiss escaping through his teeth. He stilled inside her, he was hurting her, the very last thing he wanted to do.

"What's the matter?" she whispered as she pressed kisses to his jaw and neck, "please don't stop," she urged, "fuck me hard, God I think I'll die if you stop now."

It was all he could do not to comply, he withdrew and thrust hard, again and again, his arse pumping up and down as he lost all restraint and plunged into her tight hole, lost in the sound of her cries and the feel of her body around his throbbing shaft.

"Fuck... Hermione..." he cried, wondering which would finish him first, his heart pounding out of his chest or his balls exploding. With a grunt he threw his head back as he came hard, his body shuddering with the deepest orgasm he had ever experienced.

Utterly spent he collapsed, rolling to lay by her side as his softening cock slid from her.

"I'm sorry," he apologised as soon as he could form a conscious thought, "I wanted to last longer for you."

Hermione whimpered and turned to look at him, her chest still heaving and her eyes glassy. A tear rolled down her cheek, "I've never, well not before... didn't think I could, some women never do."

He turned to his side and propped his head with his arm. "Hermione?" he frowned, wiping the tear away with his finger, "Did I just give you your first orgasm?"

She nodded and smiled as a smug grin spread over is face. Reaching out she stroked the forearm that was supporting his head, her thumb lingering over the Dark Mark seared into his flesh. He shuddered slightly in response. "Does it hurt?" she asked.

"No, I just don't like the thought of you being in contact with the vile thing."

"Muggles can remove tattoos with lasers now you know, or you could do what Draco did." At his puzzled expression she continued, "He found a Witch tattooist that covered it with a dragon, he was showing everyone at the party. It looks really good and you can't make the Mosmordre out at all."

He rolled onto his back and stretched, smiling as she curled against him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Warm enough?" he asked as he wrapped his arm around her, "It gets chilly down here when the fire gets low."


	5. Where they finally reach the bedroom

Hermione's eyes fluttered open to the sight of a roaring fire and the realisation she was alone.

"Severus?" She sat, clutching the dark green dressing gown to her chest that had been placed over her as she slumbered. On the arm of the sofa her clothes were neatly folded and she noticed her boots had been placed tidily by the door, her jacket hanging from a hook.

With sadness she noticed his clothing was gone.

She rose, pulling on the dressing gown and looked around the room. Daylight streamed in from two small arched windows so high they touched the ceiling. The fireplace dominated the room as did the many shelves of books that lined an entire wall. The sofa and accompanying armchairs were upholstered in deep hunter green that matched the hanging tapestries that were edged in silver brocade. She reached out to stroke the heavy fabric, but withdrew her hand rapidly at the magic charge it contained.

"Fascinating isn't it?" came a deep voice over her shoulder.

Severus steadied her with a firm hand to her waist as she wheeled around to face him.

"God, you made me jump!" she declared, a hand on her chest to catch her breath, "where have you been?"

"The Bloody Baron advised me I was required in the Common Room to prevent all out warfare. I'm afraid he saw you in the altogether but I assure you he'll be discreet. He was quite complimentary in fact." A smirk formed on his lips.

"It's no worse than Peeves popping his head up in my bath like he did in my final year I suppose." She noticed he was fully dressed again, complete with his outer teaching robe and began toying with the buttons of his jacket.

"I shall have to have a little word with Peeves I think." With a growl he suddenly pulled her close. "I hoped to get back before you woke. I apologise for abandoning you," he whispered into her hair, "I even docked a hundred points from my own house for disturbing our afternoon."

"Was it a bad fight?"

"Just the usual Slytherin sexual politics. Miss X caught her boyfriend Mr Y doing something depraved with Mr or Miss Z. The names change but still the hexes fly."

"And did you partake in such political games as a student?" she asked, gazing into his eyes.

"This is me we're talking about, Hermione. I couldn't get laid for love nor money when I was a teenager and God knows I tried both. I was this gangly creature, all elbows and knees, hardly loves young dream. It only got worse when Black and Potter showed my greying y-fronts to half the school."

"They didn't!" she cried, horrified.

His eyebrow arched. "I assumed young Potter had regaled you all with what he saw while nosing about in my Pensieve. It appears I may have misjudged him."

"They stole your... gruds and showed them around? That's vile." She pulled from his arms and began pacing furiously. "And as for Harry poking around in someone else's Pensieve, I shall kick his arse when I see him next."

Severus looked at her sheepishly, "They didn't steal them. I was wearing them at the time."

"So James Potter and Sirius Black assaulted you, Harry violated your privacy and that's on top of Sirius sending you to Remus while transformed."

He drew in a ragged breath and sat down heavily in the nearest seat. "Along with hexes and verbal abuse on a daily basis, admittedly from myself as well, that's about the long and the short of it."

"No wonder you're a moody fucker at the best of times," Hermione snapped, dropping into astride his lap and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

A chuckle rumbled deep in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, relishing the feel of her body against his. "My bath robe never looked so sexy," he crooned as his lips found the soft flesh of her neck. "Oh Hermione, a wizard could get addicted to the taste of your skin, Merlin alone knows what Weasley was fucking about at, I'd give anything to make you come." She arched her back and hissed at the sensation of his teeth against her throat. His hands dropped to her hips as she writhed against his aching erection. "To think of him using you and only taking his own pleasure when you are such a force of nature..." he gazed into her soft brown I eyes, "My cock just weeps for you." A smirk spread across his lips.

Hermione buried her face into his shoulder, shaking with laughter, "And I suppose you'd like me to dry its tears with my lips?"

"Thank you for the offer, I'm sure you shall get the opportunity, Miss Granger but it occurs to me I have been remiss as a host." With a grunt he stood and she wrapped her legs around his waist. "It is time for the grand tour of the Salazar Suite."

"Can we start with the bedroom?" she teased.

"All in good time you... minx," he chided, and cleared his throat, "Good afternoon, I am Severus, your tour guide today. Welcome to the Salazar Suite, home to the Head's of Slytherin since the inception of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This is the Withdrawing Room which is accessible via the main dungeon corridor and via the Head of Slytherin's Office, which you may know from your second year when you pilfered some boomslang skin." Hermione laughed as he hitched her higher in his arms and gestured towards a hidden door in the bookcases.

"You may have noticed the residual magical signature in the soft furnishings about the room. This is believed to be due to a lovers tiff between Salazar and Rowena. It is said that following a heated argument their lovemaking was so intense it imprinted on the room. To this day the furnishings defy aging, transfiguration, they cannot be removed and nor can the colour scheme be changed in any way."

"That sounds like quite a shag." Hermione commented.

"Through this door," he pushed a door open with his foot, "is the Research Laboratory. Each incumbent has used it in a different way to research his particular field of study. As you can see it is currently set up for potions research while keeping the protective circle carved in the floor clear for defensive work."

He backed out of the room while she was still craning her neck to see his workbench. "What have you been working on?" she asked, puzzled at the array of ingredients on the counter.

"Your dinner milady," he advised as he backed through another door then turned abruptly and entered another room before she could get a proper look. "Through the bedroom is the en suite bath and shower room."

"Very nice." Hermione giggled, admiring the large bath and sizeable shower in the corner. "Big enough for two."

"Allegedly big enough for four but I've never tested the theory," he commented as he swung her about and returned to the bedroom, dumping her unceremoniously on the bed, slightly breathless from the exertion. "That concludes our tour for today. Any questions?"

Hermione giggled and raised her hand.

He rolled his eyes, "Yes Miss Granger?"

"What is the policy on the sexual harassment of tour guides?"

"Any gratuities in the form of sexual favours would be most gratefully received." He smirked as he palmed his wand and undid the buttons of his jacket to reveal only the top two buttons of his shirt were fastened. At her raised eyebrow he added, "I dressed in a hurry and didn't want you bitching about the buttons again."

"So I see." She licked her lips as he stripped his shirt, the top two buttons of his fly were also undone revealing a treasure trail that disappeared into dark fur. "You went commando too I notice."

"One should always be prepared for action..." he advised as she sat up and pulled the remaining buttons undone then slid his trousers down his thighs. Stepping out of the trousers he toed off his boots and slipped the dressing gown from her shoulders as he crawled over her, pressing her back to the bed as he took her mouth in a ferocious kiss.

Her hands roamed his back, reflexively digging into his flesh as her mouth returned his kiss with enthusiasm. Severus lost himself in the moment, aware only of her scent, the feel of her mouth and her skin as they explored each other, revelling in the contact and intimacy between them.

"Turn over?" he urged his voice deep with lust.

"Why? What..." She tensed suddenly in his arms, "what are you going to do?"

"I want to take you from behind," he whispered, "is that alright?" He kissed her temple softly, belying the passion that roared within him.

She tensed again, "Do you want... I mean... " She cleared her throat, "Are we talking anal here?"

His breath was ragged as he gazed into her eyes. He wanted to say 'Hermione, much as I'd love to explore every permutation of sexual experience with you I've never partaken of back door activities of any variety and any experimentation of that kind will have to be approached with far more patience on both sides than I currently possess in the presence of your naked body.' Unfortunately it came out as a grunted "No," followed by him bodily flipping her over, hoisting her onto her knees and gently rocking her back onto his throbbing erection with his hands firmly on her hips.

She gasped as he slid inside her, he was sheathed so deep. She rocked against him as he began to thrust, gasping her name and whimpering half finished endearments as his balls slapped against her swollen clitoris.

She groaned as his pumping cock hit a sweet spot deep inside her and sweat broke over her body as he slid his hand around her and grasped her throat, yanking her against his sweat-slicked chest and drawing her upright. He slid his other hand slowly, painfully slowly down her body to her soft curls and began teasing her clit between his thumb and forefinger. A stuttering cry escaped her lips at his touch, almost painful to her sensitive nub.

"Come for me," he whispered into her ear as he scraped his teeth against her neck. He knew she was close, her hands clutched reflexively at his as they held her body against his thrusting hips. "Don't fight it, Hermione."

He could feel her curls cascading over his shoulder as she threw her head back and shuddered, a choked sob forming in her throat as she surrendered utterly to the sensations wracking her body while held firm in the safety of his hands.

He hissed at the sensation of her muscles clenching around his cock as he continued to pump at a furious pace. Determined to ride her climax out he gritted his teeth and began silently reciting the twenty-seven stages required to brew Veritaserum. By the time he reached cool and decant Hermione was a shuddering wreck and wailing like the Bandon Banshee. With a wry grin he slowed his assault to a languid easing of his slick length in and out of her, enjoying the diminishing spasms from her sweaty body as he rocked her gently.

"How was that?" he whispered as she turned her head seeking his lips. "Bloody hell, I've rendered you speechless." He chuckled and kissed her deeply, and released his grip on her throat and slid his hands to her hips. "I don't want to seem selfish, but I'd really like to come too."

Her eyes widened as he rocked back onto his heels, drawing her down so she was sitting astride his lap. He let her set the pace as he leaned back on one arm, admiring her buttocks as she rode him.

"Stamina potion?" she grunted.


End file.
